Dear Jack
by miamac
Summary: Ana's always wondered why her aunt doesn't talk about her dad, so one day she decides to write a public letter to Jack Napier, asking him to get in touch with her. But will she be happy when she finally meets her dad... face to scars?
1. Dear Jack Napier

Ana inwardly groaned as she spied a group of people sitting together on the soft park grass. They appeared to be that perfect new family - a father, a mother and a very young daughter. All of them carried smiles that were unblemished, still untouched with the worries of this world. Their happiness seemed to radiate to others around them, uplifting everyone's spirits.

She watched as if in a daze as the mother held out some cake to her husband. He opened his mouth expectantly and gasped in surprise as she smashed it into his face, turning his shocked smile into a sugar frosted one. The two parents then turned their attention to their daughter who merely laughed at the two of them, clapping her chubby little hands in delight. She could not have been more than three years old, still carrying an air of innocence and perfection. Ana saw the way his father gazed at his family, his eyes filled with love and compassion. She could tell he would be ready to do anything, go up against anyone to protect them

Looking away from the sickly sweet scene, she grabbed a lock of her curly light brown hair and twisted it in her finger out of habit. Her thoughts turned back to the matter she had brought herself to the park for – to make a decision.

Today was the day she finally earned enough money to pay for a space in the Gotham newspaper. Depending on which part of the news paper you hired out, the expense changed. Ana had been working for a space on the very first page of the busy newspaper, which had totalled to a very hefty sum seeing as there were other more important things that people wanted to put there. However, she knew she was only going to do this once and so would try to put it in a place that she knew her father would see. That's why she wanted the space after all, to find him and make contact… to find out if he was even still alive... to find out if he cared.

However, her mind was plagued over whether or not she should actually go through with it. Her aunt Clara, who was in fact her legal guardian, had no idea about what she was doing. Ana had told her that she was getting a job to earn money towards a new computer. Clara had not told her much about her dad, only his name and that he had left when she was two years old after her mum had died. She had not seen him again after that and said she had no way to contact him.

Ana reached for her purse which was sitting on the bench to her right. All the money she had carefully earned and stashed over the course of six months was sitting in there, waiting for her to make her decision.

Her eyes wandered back over to the young family, the father was now tickling his daughter, making her squeal in delight. With that, her mind was made up. In a rush, she grabbed her purse and made for the bus stop, heading for the place where the Gotham newspaper was published.

After twenty minutes of nervously waiting on the bus, her mind at war with her heart, she got off at the right stop and stood in front of the towering building.

_C'mon you can do this,_ she urged herself, forcing her legs to walk through the front door and to stride up to the young receptionist waiting there.

"I'm Ana Smith, here to see Wayne Scott," she spoke confidently, hiding how she really felt. Wayne Scott was the editor in chief of the Daily Gotham – a ruthless yet kind man who had agreed to letting her place her letter in the newspaper, although at a price of course.

"Take the elevator to the top," she smiled after she verified the appointment with the computer screen in front of her.

Ana waited impatiently in the elevator and jumped as it stopped at the top floor so soon. In one step she was out of the claustrophobic space and into a large office that overlooked most of Gotham. Ana gazed in awe at the walls which were covered with the articles of different newspapers, forming an odd choice of wallpaper.

"Hey kid," she jumped as she noticed Wayne standing to her right, in front of a bookcase that she had not seen before.

"Hi Mr. Scott," she greeted him, shaking his outstretched hand, "I've got the money."

He nodded and strode over to a large mahogany desk before taking a seat behind it, he then motioned to the other chair sitting in front of the desk. She took a seat there gingerly, placing her purse in her lap.

"Do you know what you're going to put in your space?" he asked curiously, waiting as she fished through her purse. She handed him the hand written letter she had taken a while on, and also the wad of cash she had stashed there.

Ana waited nervously as the editor read her letter, his eyes expertly skimming over her slightly untidy, cursive handwriting.

"I like it kid, I like it. It's going to tug on a few people's hearts, even if your dad doesn't read it," he mused, "Jack Napier? That your dad's name?"

"Yeah," Ana answered as he placed the letter on his desk.

"Then why's your surname Smith?" She wondered how he knew her full name until she remembered giving him her details a few months back.

"My aunt's my legal guardian, she had my second name changed when I was little," she explained as he nodded at her.

"Okay then, this will be in the morning edition of tomorrow's newspaper, you have my word Ana," he stood up and once again shook her hand whilst leading her to the elevator door.  
"If your dad reads this, we have all your contact information so we can call you and get you in touch with each other."  
"Thanks Mr. Scott," she mumbled, her cheeks growing red.

"No problem kid," he smiled as she stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind her.

The joker skipped down the hallway of the small pokey flat he inhabited, arms outstretched as he turned a corner by latching his right arm to the wall. He hummed a meaningless tune, slowing down his pace as he reached the front door. Grinning from ear to ear, he opened his front door and gazed down to find his morning paper placed there welcomingly on the welcome mat.

"Ahh, Good morning chaos," he stated to no one in particular as he shut the door behind him and once again skipped down the pokey hallway to the living room.

He wondered how people had reacted to the stunt he had pulled just the night before. He chuckled to himself as he reminisced over how he had kidnapped a particular news reporter who had passed a certain comment on live television, jokingly stating the joker had 'lost his touch' after having escaped from Arkham. After torturing him mercilessly for a few hours, the joker had carved a Glasgow smile into the large man's face and sent the footage of all this to the news channels. Finally, he had dumped the body right in front of his wife's place of work… and had watched when she had discovered the body.

Once in the tiny living room, he bounded over to the sofa and jumped onto it, turning the paper round so it was face up. The smile on his face was instantly wiped off as he realised his story had not made the front page of the news.

A growl escaped from his throat as he read the heading of the front page story.

_Teenage girl searches for father._

Then there was a bunch of text and a letter the girl had written for her father.

"Stupid sob story, stupid girl," he mumbled to himself as he glared down at the front page. He was about to crumple the newspaper in anger when he caught sight of the beginning of the letter. It read, "Dear Jack Napier."

The Joker stopped dead, his eyes widening as he read over those words and he felt the newspaper slip from his fingers to the floor. For a second, he felt his cold heart stop in his chest as he understood the implications of what he had just read.

He shook his head in confusion and savagely reached down and picked up the dilapidated newspaper in a rush, before thoroughly reading what was written.

'Ana Smith is an average sixteen year old girl who lives in a small townhouse on the suburbs of Gotham. There she lives with her Aunt Clara as her mother died when she was only two and her dad is no where to be seen. Here at the Daily Gotham we promised Ana a space to write a letter in search of her father, hoping he will see it and make contact with her after all these years. If any of you know a Jack Napier, please urge him to get in contact with the Daily Gotham so we can reunite these two lost souls.'

Underneath this text was a handwritten letter.

_Dear Jack Napier,_

_I'm your daughter… Ana._

_I don't know if you'll ever see this… or if you're even alive at all, but I fo know that I have to try get in touch with you, or I'll regret it forever._

_I don't know much about you at all, only that you left after mum died. I also know your name. That's about it._

_I've always thought about you… wondering what you look like and why you left. Don't get me wrong, I love my aunt and I'm so grateful for all she's done for me, but I want to know where I came from. I want to know you dad._

_Please get in touch if you read this._

_With love, _

_Your daughter Ana._

The newspaper crumpled in the Joker's hands as he squeezed it tightly, remembering a time when he was Jack Napier. Before Chaos had ensued.

"_I love you Jack, you know I do, but we can't live like this," his wife's voice murmured to him softly as he sat with his head in his hands on their beat up sofa._

"_You think I don't know that?" he asked her, taking her soft hand in his, "I'm trying Susan, I swear. I'm trying to provide for you and Ana. I want to give you so much… but at the moment money is hard to come by."  
She nodded her head, sighing as he stroked her palm._

"_What about that job you tried to go after at Maroni's place?" she asked him, her voice filled with hope. He stopped stroking her palm, closing her hand with his fingers as he turned to look at her._

"_I don't know about that… You know what they say about Maroni and his goons," he whispered to her, "They said I could have the job… But I'm worried about it babe. There are lots of rumours going round about that lot."_

_His wife sighed and leaned against the sofa, her eyes closed as she pondered what he had said. She was about to answer when they heard a knock at the door. Getting up felt like an effort at that time, so she was glad when she felt Jack get off the sofa and stride towards the door. He smiled as he opened it to find his daughter and sister in law standing there._

"_Hey honey," he grinned as his daughter giggled and toddled into his arms. He picked her up and squeezed her tightly, "How was you day."_

_He listened as she began talking in her own cute baby language, he noticed that the only real word he could pick out was 'potato'._

"_That's great Ana," he laughed, plopping her onto the floor and turning her to find his sister in law looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a smile on her face. He shook his head and gave a small smile._

"_Thanks for watching her Clara," he thanked the woman, beckoning for her to come in and take a seat next to Susan. He gazed as the two women began to gossip about random people. He loved it when it was like this… nothing to worry about, just conversation and laughs._

"_Daddy?" Jack felt Ana pull at his black trouser leg and he looked down to find her holding up a picture to him. He took it from her hand carefully, and smiled when he saw that it was a badly drawn picture of him, her, Susan and Clara. They were all portrayed as stick figures of course, splashes of colours depicting their clothes and hair. His own hair was merely three blonde scribbles planted across his face, and all of their faces carried a grotesque giant smile. At the bottom of the picture was a giant pink heart. Jack could not help but feel tears brim in his eyes as he gazed lovingly at the picture, then down at Ana._

"_It's perfect, sweetheart," he answered her, leaning down to plant a giant kiss on her forehead. It was at that moment that he knew he would take the job with Maroni. No matter what the rumours, he needed to provide for his family._

The Joker growled as this unwanted memory plagued his mind, momentarily making him forget who he really was. Jack Napier was gone, and the Joker had taken residence in his place… And he was not going anywhere any time soon. He stared down at the newspaper now on the floor, and began to laugh to himself amusedly as he thought about what he had just found out.

"If girlie wants her daddy, here he comes," he shouted with his arms spread wide, before doubling over with more insane laughter.


	2. Getting back what's rightfully his

**Thanks to all those who favourited this, added it to their story alerts and especially those people who reviewed! I really want some opinions on my portrayal of the Joker and how I write him... do you think there are any ways I could improve him? Oh, and just the way I'm writing this story in general hah. :) Anyways... enjoy. **

"Ana! What did you do?" Ana's best friend Lily shouted down the phone as she had just seen the front page of the Daily Gotham. Ana had to admit, she had been sceptical over whether Wayne would actually keep his promise and publish her story at the front, but he was true to his word and all the money she had spent had been worth it.

"I took finding my dad into my own hands," Ana answered, absentmindedly eating a piece of chocolate as she once again read her letter on the front page of the newspaper.

"Well, I wish you'd told me… But I'm proud of you babe," she answered me with a laugh, "So you think he'll answer?"

Ana contemplated this question, reaching towards her bedside table for another piece of chocolate.

"Well… Nearly everyone in this city reads the Daily Gotham, 'cept my aunt of course for whatever reason, and it's a front page story… so chances are if he's alive and in the city, he'll see it. Now whether or not he'll answer is another thing entirely," She replied, her mouth stuffed full of chocolaty goodness. A tremendous weight had been lifted off of her shoulders since she had written the letter. She knew now that she had tried to make contact, tried to do something and not just sat around doing nothing. So since then she had been indulging herself, today's indulgence being a gigantic bar of chocolate.

"He's an idiot if he doesn't, and therefore not worthy of your attention," Her best friend stated, her comment made Ana laugh. Trust Lily to say something like that just to make her feel better.

"Yeah I guess, I just wonder how long it'll take… you know how impatient I get sometimes," Ana complained, laughing as her friend promptly agreed.  
"Well I got to go Ana, see you bright and early tomorrow for chemistry."

"Yeah, great," Ana groaned, "Bye Lil."

...

Clara Smith stared at her computer screen in boredom, wishing she was at home watching television with her niece Ana. Working as a secretary for Bruce Wayne seemed like a good enough career, but in actual fact it paid pretty little and required a lot of work – an average job in Gotham.

She sighed as she leaned back against her chair and placed her feet on the little upturned waist paper basket she never used. Business was slow today, leaving her with absolutely nothing to do. She jumped as her boss poked his head out of the door of his office.

"Slacking off?" Bruce teased as she sat up, smoothing her skirt quickly, "Nah, I understand there's nothing to do here today. Hey, why don't you take the rest of the day off? I think I can manage fine on my own today."

Clara hastily thanked him before he had a chance to change his mind and slung her purse over her shoulder. A few minutes later she was waiting for a taxi outside the towering building she called work. Looking up she noticed the dark clouds gathering overhead and managed to opening up an umbrella before it began the rain fell down on the city in bucketfuls.

Finally, she spotted a cab and jumped into it, turning towards the driver who had a black cap on his head. He did not look at her as she recited her address to him, but simply nodded and started the car. Clara was surprised at his silent attitude, most taxi drivers in Gotham were loud and intrusive; asking personal questions as if they were your best friend all of a sudden. She liked the change, but found it slightly disquieting. Deciding to put it out of her mind, she rested her head against the window and watched as rain descended onto the car window and slid slowly down the pane of glass. She was glad when the odd taxi driver turned up the old radio he had in the car, and she closed her eyes as she listened to the evening news.

_"Today has been a surprisingly quiet day in Gotham. No news of the Joker's reign of havoc so far."_

She smiled to herself as she heard this, loving days when she did not have to hear of her brother in law's psychotic doings.

_"And now we turn to the lighter side of the news. It seems a young girl from the outskirts of our city has begun a search for her father. If any of you listening know a Jack Napier, please get in contact with us so we can make this girl's dream come true."_

Clara's eyes flew open in shock as the news reporter said this.

_Jack Napier? Did Ana do this? _

Her hand flew to her cell phone in her purse and she dialled her niece's number in panic. If Ana had done this, she had no idea what she may have started.

"Hallo aunty, aren't you supposed to be working?" she heard her niece's sing song voice greet her.

"Ana? Did you contact the radio about your father?" she accused, not really hiding the panic in her voice. For all she knew, Jack could be heading over to their house as they spoke.

"Are you serious, it's on the radio?" the young girl squealed, oblivious to the danger she was in, "I just thought they'd put it on the newspaper. That was worth every penny I must tell you-"

Clara tuned her out quickly, feeling her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she considered the worst case scenario of all this.

_Worst case… Jack heard and is going to come after us. Best case is either he didn't hear or he didn't care._

However, Clara knew that Jack would care. He would care very much.

"You have no idea what you've done," she croaked down the phone, massaging the temples of her head as she formulated a plan of sorts.

"Look, if this is about not telling you then I'm sorry but I want to get to know him."

"Ana, we can talk about going behind my back later, but right now I need you to pack a bag of clothes and head to the police station," she attempted to sound confident, unlike how she really felt basically. She cut Ana off as she began to ask questions.  
"Just do it, please," she pleaded, before closing her phone and looking out of the window. She narrowed her eyes as she gazed outside the window and realised that she was not anywhere close to home. With a start, she observed the dilapidated and dirty buildings that inhabited the Narrows.

"Um, driver? We're going the wrong way… I don't live here," she called, tapping him on the shoulder in confusion. He answered by speeding up and heading further into the darkness that was the poverty stricken suburb.

"Hello? What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted, as she noticed the doors lock and a small smile creep up the side of the driver's face. It was then when she noticed them – the scars edging up his painted white face.

"I, uh… think that I'm taking a step towards getting back what's rightfully _mine,_" the all too familiar voice laughed as her eyes widened in shock. There, sitting in the uniform of a cab driver was the Joker in all his glory, dressed up as a taxi driver.

"J-Jack," she stammered, her mouth dropping open in shock. If there was ever a face she had hoped she would never see again, it would definitely be his.

"C-Clara," he imitated her scared voice as he turned a sharp corner in a rush, she slammed into the car side and let out a groan of pain. Suddenly the car come to a halt and no sooner had she gotten up from her side did the door right next to her burst open. The madman clamped his hands over her wrists and dragged her out of the taxi cab.

"I can't tell you my dear Clara… what a _delight _it is to see you," his voice had changed a lot, it now carried a slightly higher pitch and was much more threatening, "I always said it would be terribly fun to, uh, _catch up_… and now we can do just that."

He pulled her into the nearest broken down building, kicking open the door and dragging her into the front room by her hands. Here, he dumped her on a chair and turned to lock her only way of escape. She gazed around the dimly lit room, spying greying walls and matching floors. The only piece of furniture that inhabited the room was the wooden chair she was seated in.

"Well, well well," The joker's voice resounded across the room as he took confident steps towards her, his black shoes making light sounds on the wood flooring, "Lookie who decided to pay me a visit… after all these years."

A shiver crept through her as she took note at his painted face… the white paint covering most of it, red lipstick highlighting his scars and black paint encircling his already dark eyes. Clara gazed at him, comparing his features now to what they had been all those years before. Of course, now he bore the more obvious scars, but his face was also more lined and his once blonde hair now a dirty shade of green.

"So please-uh, tell me… dearest sister-in-law," he was right in front of her now, and bent his tall frame so that she had to gaze up to look him in the eyes, "When you were going to enlighten me with the knowledge that my _daughter_…my, ah, next of kin… was alive all this time?"

He shouted the last part, bearing his yellowed teeth at her in a deep growl that escaped from his chest. Clara could not help but cower before him, wishing to see the kind hearted person she had once known him to be.

"You had lost it, Jack," she muttered, shaking her head as she recalled many memories she had attempted to suppress, "You killed Susan, I couldn't let Ana stay there. I thought you would kill her as well."  
The Joker's hand smashed into her face as he backhanded her, sending her sprawling onto the floor. She grabbed her cheek in pain, squealing as she felt him grab hold of her hair and pull it so she had to stare right into his scarred face.

"I. Did. Not. Kill. Susan," he enunciated, his face screwed up in anger as he tugged even harder at her hair, "_They_ did it… Because I would not do what they wanted me to do. Just because I would not conform to their, uh, evil ways."

"Who's 'they'?" she breathed a sigh of relief as he let go of her hair and stalked off, muttering under his breath about his late wife.

"Maroni's… men, silly," he turned to face her once more, a smile replacing the scowl that had adorned it just seconds before, "They wanted to teach me a-uh, lesson for ratting them out to the men-in-blue."

Clara's eyes widened in fright as she spied a switch blade placed precariously in his hands. He used it to punctuated his rant as he continued.

"I was so… _self righteous_ back then… I wouldn't harm a man with a gun. They're disgusting, guns are. Just black pieces of shiny metal that _cowards_ hide behind. Not me though. _Nope_," he leaned down, grabbing her chin in his hand and holding the knife in his left, "Give me a knife and I will sculpt the world."

She gulped as he stroked her face with the blade, sweat gleaming on her forehead as he smiled at her cruelly.

"B-but," she stammered, moving her face away from the knife, "There were witnesses placing you at the scene, they saw you stab her."

"It's called a-uh… set up, Claire-a," he stretched out her name and furrowed his eyebrows in anger, "They did this, to me."

He pointed to the grotesque scars with his knife, then brought his face even closer to hers.

"Then they beat me, made sure to make me scream. So that the wounds on my-uh pretty face would be sure to put me in agony," once again he placed the blade against her skin, but held her head in place with his other hand so she would not be able to move away, "Finally, to add to my punishment, as they called it, they brought out dear Susan. She, of course, told me she was _proud _of me. Said it was a brave thing I did, going to the cops with what I knew. _They, _though, did not really share her thoughts. I had to watch as they raped her, and then stabbed her to death. Finally, they let me go. Told me that I had three days to leave Gotham for-e-ver."

"You're lying," she screamed as he cut into her skin slowly with the knife.

"Na-ah," he laughed like a child as she squirmed "I don't lie. But I haven't finished ye-t. Because… you know what the worst part was? When I got home, I found my dearest little daughter, my precious little _jewel_... _gone_."

"You say you don't lie, and that you didn't kill her. Yet here you are, the most notorious psychopathic killer in Gotham," she accused him, which only earned her a painful punch to her stomach.  
"I thought that they had killed Ana as well, and I must uh… admit, that my thought patters_ have_ changed. I changed my identity that night… sewed my face up and just left. I had to take revenge on my family's killers. They would _not _die in vain," he paused, licking his red lips as he thought for a second, "But _that_ was when I discovered the beauty of chaos… and Knives. As I carved into their murderers I realised that life... Is. Not. Fair, and that I would make sure everyone in this hell-hole got to know that. One way or another."

He plunged the switch blade deep into his ex sister in law's neck and watched as she screamed in agony. Finally, as she was just about to lose consciousness, he bent down and pulled the blade out of her bleeding body.

"I'm getting back what's rightfully mine, Claire-a… and you're not going to stop me."


End file.
